


sand dollar

by Kuromori (necrocrunk)



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Other, maxwell being an asshole as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:45:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrocrunk/pseuds/Kuromori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clawed fingers pulled his body up, drawing a sharp, gurgled cry out of the fading scientist. He finally got a good view of the man above him, and it caused him to grimace. He sputtered as he spoke.<br/>"F-fuck you too, Maxwell."</p>
            </blockquote>





	sand dollar

Wilson’s vision was blurry, the snow dizzily falling around him. The thick smell of copper clouded his senses, making him cough and sputter on the dark liquid. The claw and bite marks on his body stung as the cold precipitation touched it, making him wince.  
How many times had he ended up like this? Choking on his own blood and body nearly shredded. The pain was fading now, a sign he was closer to death than he liked to admit. What was the quote? “…Greeted death like an old friend.” From that book he read in his spare time, back at his house. Which was so long ago. Or it seemed like, he wasn’t sure. His thoughts were too mussed for him to believe in any of them. 

His ears rang as he scanned the grey sky above him a bit more intensely, trying to ignore the darkness that was closing in on his vision. Wilson let out a small squeak of pain as he readjusted how he was laying, frostbitten fingers struggling to clutch the ground below him. But there was something that drew his vision back, just enough to make out the world around him.  
"How disappointing; And you were doing so _well_ too.”  
Clawed fingers pulled his body up, drawing a sharp, gurgled cry out of the fading scientist. He finally got a good view of the man above him, and it caused him to grimace. He sputtered as he spoke.  
"F-fuck you too, Maxwell."

"No need for profanity, pal. I was checking to see how you fared with the hounds. Not so well apparently." He smirked, running a gloved hand through his hair. Wilson mustered all the strength he could and with a snarl, spat blood in his face. He could see the anger spark in the demon’s eyes as he wiped off his features; the expression quickly turning into condescending smile.   
"Still fighting, even on the verge of death. You’re something to be admired, Wilson."  
Fingers clutched his fractured wrist, twisting hard. The other cried out, tensing weakly against his chest.  
"But really, that attitude needs to change."  
Maxwell shoved a sharp claw into one of his wounds at the end of his words, and the scientist finally broke. Tears betrayed him and slipped down scarred cheeks, broken sobs racking his shredded chest. 

"Maxwell _please stop_.” He cried, face pressed into his suit. He smirked, complying and dropping him quite carelessly in the stained snow. It drew another sound out of Wilson, eyes cracking open to glance at the demon.

"You’re a disappointment, Wilson. You can’t even hold your own against a couple of hounds."  
He placed a heeled shoe on his chest and leaned down.  
” _Useless_.”


End file.
